


isn't this a dream come true?

by mr_charles



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Sibling Incest, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 16:45:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8292865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mr_charles/pseuds/mr_charles
Summary: Jervis has always loved his sister.





	

**Author's Note:**

> no beta

When Alice is born, Jervis is already a young lad. He is five years old, with an uncanny ability to get his way. So when he asks for a baby sister, he gets one. Alice is colicky and fussy. She only calms in her big brother’s arms.

“She loves her brother,” Mother had cooed, smiling at her children. 

 

On Alice’s 13th birthday, she has a tea party. She lets Mother wrangle her into a stiff and starchy dress, icy blue with a sterile white apron, and tie a black ribbon in her hair. Jervis does magic tricks for her and her small gaggle of girlfriends as they sip lukewarm tea and eat tiny cakes from the baker in town.

“Listen to the ticking…” Jervis had said slowly. “Let it match your heartbeat…”

Alice sees her friends’ eyes becoming cloudy and dazed as they sway in their chairs. She feels her own heartbeat slow and her brother’s voice is soft and warm in her ears. She wants to do whatever he asks.

He makes the girls dance and throw cakes at each other. 

 

Mother is not happy with the frosting and jam smeared on Alice’s birthday dress. She scolds Alice in the small bathroom, smacking her hands and telling her she’s too old to be making messes like that.

“It was _Jervis,_ Mother!” Alice protests, even as Mother wrestles the dress over Alice’s head, leaving her standing in nothing but her slip and her stockings.

“How is Mrs. Watson going to get these stains out, Alice?” Mother demands, shaking the stained dress in front of Alice’s nose. “Do you know what this dress cost?”

Alice pouts and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Get in the bath, Alice,” Mother demands. “And don’t come out of your room until I’ve talked to your father about this.” She turns on her heel and leaves Alice standing alone in the bathroom.

 

She sits in the tub with her arms looped around her skinny knees, grumbling to herself.

“You shouldn’t be making messes, _Alice_ ,” she snarks to nobody. “You’re too old, _Alice_. Whatever.” She sighs and stretches her legs out, wriggling bubbles between her garishly painted toes. 

Somewhere behind her right temple, she hears a soft exhale. But she turns and sees nothing but the pristine tile and a few droplets of water. Out of her peripheral vision, she sees a hand dip into her bath to brush her ankle. But when she jerks her leg away from the intruder, she sees that there’s nobody there. 

She allows herself to relax into the warm water, closing her eyes and enjoying the smells of her mother’s stolen bath oils. But she hears the sound again— a rough groan and a sharp inhale. She ignores it, sinking lower into the bathwater and feeling her heartbeat slow as she calms down.

But when she closes her eyes, she sees quick flashes. At first, they come too quickly for her to see what they are. But then she sees her toes— bright and glittered— being tickled and kissed, long dark hair trailing over the smooth tops of her feet. She can feel phantom fingers ghosting the backs of her knees and the pull of stubble on the sensitive skin of her thighs.

She squirms to escape the sensations but can’t seem to open her eyes to make them stop. She feels wet kisses on her belly and the pressure of a hand on her small breast. She sees flashes of men and women in all kinds of positions, stretched and contorted in pleasure. She thrashes in the water, trying to get the images and sensations to stop. She clamps her knees together as her heart speeds up. Finally when she feels her heart is about to burst, she hears a word, just one.

“ _Alice._ ”

 

Her bath water is going cold by the time she calms down. She reflects on the images that Jervis put in her mind, the things he thinks about her. With shaking hands, she drains the tub and quickly yanks her nightgown over her head. He tries to comfort her as she emerges from the bathroom.

“Alice,” he sighs, his own pajamas rumpled, as if they were thrown on in a hurry. “I am so sorry.” 

She freezes, thinking he’s going to apologize for what she saw.

“If I would have known Mother would punish you that way, I would have done another trick for you and your friends.”

She looks at him, his arms open in apology and awaiting her hug. Instead she pushes past him and goes into her bedroom. She makes sure the door is locked, and even props her vanity chair in front of the door for safety. Mother comes and fetches her hours later and tells her that Father forgives her for ruining her party dress. 

“Jervis talked to him,” Mother sneers. “Your father said he’ll buy you two new dresses in Gotham tomorrow morning.”

 

Shortly after Alice turns 15, she finds out what her blood can do. She slices her thumb while cutting up berries for a summer punch. Father chuckles and offer to kiss the wound better.

Within the hour, he’s taken Alice’s kitchen knife and murdered Mother. He turns the knife on himself as Alice watches hopelessly, blood dripping from her thumb.

While the police wrap her parents in sheets and cart them off, Alice sobs into Jervis’ arms. She can almost ignore his kisses to the top of her head and his murmurs of “my Alice”.

 

First they sell the silver. And then the china. Followed by the pearls and the diamonds. Finally, they sell the house. Alice gets a job at the grocery store in town and Jervis gets a job at a club in Gotham. Neither pay much but it’s enough to keep them in their tiny apartment, a cramped thing with thin walls and rattling windows.

But the bathroom door comes with a deadbolt, a rusted piece of metal that feels like it could be crushed under even Alice’s small hands. Yet Alice slides the bolt into place whenever she uses the bathroom— even if it’s just to brush her teeth.

 

 

What Alice doesn’t know is that the tattered wallpaper hides more than just dented plaster and the occasionally odd stain. There is a hole, no bigger than a coin, carved out of the wall, with the other side being Jervis’ bedroom. If Jervis bends to press his eye against the hole, he can see the entirety of the room, albeit with frayed wallpaper in his vision.

 

He remembers the night of her 13th birthday, where he had to fill in the blanks of what her skin looked like under her party dress. Now, as she prepares to shower after a long day at the grocery store, he can map every inch of her skin. He knows the constellation of freckles on her tender hip, reddened and marked by the elastic of her plain panties. He chuckles to himself as she twists to unhook her simple white bra and longs to help her unclasp it himself. 

The hole he peeps through is close to the large mirror and he watches as Alice twists and turns, looking at her nude reflection. She is almost 17, and perfect in every way. He slowly reaches into his slim trousers as Alice touches her small breasts. Her touch isn’t sexual, more like she’s analyzing her body. She frowns as her hands cover her flesh and she twists so she can look at her backside. She seems satisfied with that part of her body as she shrugs and turns the shower on. 

 

Sometimes Jervis thinks of hypnotizing her into putting on a show like this for him. There’s so much he could make her do, let him do. It wouldn’t take much, he muses, gripping his cock. A whisper in her ear while she sleeps and the following night, she’ll find herself walking into his bedroom. 

“Alice!” He’ll act shocked and ask what she’s doing. 

“I know you look at me,” she’ll say quietly, fiddling with the buttons on her nightgown. He won’t try and stop her as she pulls the fabric from her shoulders. He imagines she wears nothing underneath. “I want you to look at me,” she’ll say, turning to expose herself to him. 

Jervis presses his forehead to his bedroom wall and groans as he imagines his sister all for himself. He knows she’s never been kissed, never been seen. He imagines Alice looping her arms around his neck and clumsily pressing her lips to his, his whisper having sent her into a fever dream.

“Jervis…” she’ll whine against his lips. “I want…” 

He imagines she’ll hiss in pleasure as he puts his hands on her slim hips, roughly grinding himself against her. She’d wriggle and cry out, pressing herself against him. Jervis strokes himself faster to the thought of gripping the soft flesh of her ass, and how she’d coo and flush in his arms. 

“Patience, sweet sister,” he would whisper into her skin as she tried to pull his clothes off. She would pout like she used to all those years ago and he would smile as he led her to his bed. 

“ _Please_ ,” she would whine, rubbing her legs together while her small hands played at her breasts. “Touch me, _Jervis_.”

He’s never been able to deny his sister anything, not even as a child. So of course he would situate himself between her knees, like he dreamt of doing all those years ago. 

_Of course_ he bends to kiss the tender wetness he finds between her legs. 

_Of course_ he lets her twine her fingers in his hair, her back bowing as he pleasures her. 

_Of course_ he doesn’t stop until her moans turn into a scream that he hopes the neighbors can hear. 

He would only stop when she’s reduced to stuttering out his name, limp against his sheets. He would only stop when her breathing is ragged and there are tears staining her cheeks. When she looks utterly and completely _fucked_ , but her eyes are still dark with lust. 

 

He’s so close to coming that he has to stop himself. He sighs deeply as he hears Alice hum over the thin rush of the shower. It’s some old pop ditty she loved when she was younger. He imagines she’d hum the same ditty idly, grinning as she watches him undress. Her hands would be so soft and unsure as he guided them to touch him.

“Is this how to do it?” she’d ask, eyes wide and worried.

“Darling,” he would groan, “you’re doing it perfectly.”

He would notice the traces of fear in her eyes as she stroked him.

“Is it…” she would pause her hand and blush, looking downwards. “Will it fit?”

 

The creak of the shower turning off startles Jervis out of his fantasy. He peers through the hole again and sees Alice wrapped in a threadbare towel, brushing her teeth and dancing slightly in time to the strokes of her toothbrush. She hops on one foot to get clean panties on and haphazardly throws her nightshirt over her head before brushing her hair out.

“Jervis!” she calls out. “The bathroom is free if you need it!”

He sighs, hand damp around his softening cock. He can hear her walking towards his room and quickly he buttons up and throws himself into his chair, trying to look like he was just reading an old book.

“Come in!”, he says when she knocks.

“I didn’t know if you heard me,” she says quietly, damp hair darkening her nightshirt, “but the bathroom is free if you need it.”

“Alice,” he says, straightening in his chair, “come here, please.” He catches her little eye roll but she walks towards him anyway. He takes her hands in his and gently kisses the thin skin of her inner wrists, right above her poisonous veins. “Sleep tight, sweet sister.”

**Author's Note:**

> -how much oingo boingo is too much oingo boingo
> 
> -katy, it's time to sin
> 
> -y'all are slackin' on the jervis/alice train


End file.
